Novak
by Natsumi Winters
Summary: After her removal from the DA's office, Casey Novak heads West through the urgings of returning ADA Cabot where she begins again...more or less...


"_What should I do?"_

"_Something else"_

…_._After…

Casey Novak, one-time New York City ADA, sat at the bar of the Los Lobos Lounge, sipping at her second scotch of the evening. A disbarrement was certainly enough reason to begin drinking at such an early hour. Knocking back the last of her glass, Casey hissed as the liquid burned it's way down the back of her throat. Distracted, she didn't take notice of the tall blonde in the smartly pressed business suit enter.

Nodding her thanks to Barry for the tip-off, Alexandra Cabot made her way over to sit in the booth opposite the former prosecutor. For a time, the two sat in silence; icy blue meeting clouded green as the attorneys gauged each other.

"Barry, I think we're going to need another round over here," Alex broke the stalemate, calling to the bartender but keeping her eyes locked on Casey. Setting her briefcase down next to her, Alex leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. Sighing, a small smile flitted briefly across her face; it was fleeting, however did not escape Casey's notice. Quirking an eyebrow in response, Casey mulled over the possible reasons for Alex's appearance.

"So much for not falling on your sword," the words uttered by the blonde surprised Casey, who simply nodded her head. Of course, Donnelly and Cabot were close.

"Yeah, well, someone had to do the right thing."

"Are you talking about the Brady violation or the consequences?"

Leaning forward to rest her head on her palm, Casey mumbled "I'm not really sure anymore." At that moment, Alex made a decision. It was odd, that in the time since Casey Novak's removal from her position no one had made any effort to check on the woman outside of the obligatory phone call from Detective Stabler and the occasional one from Munch. What had happened to the 1-6 since her own tenure with Special Victims? There was a time when that unit had each other's backs--now Lake is in jail, Fin's resigning and Casey has been exiled.

"What do I do now?" The question was quiet, however the despair cut through Alex's musings, jerking her back to the smoky barroom.

"What you do may have changed, but not why you did it; you should start there."

"I'm a lawyer Alex, that doesn't exactly set me up for a smooth transition to…what else is there?"

"But why did you become a lawyer in the first place? From what I've heard, you have more than enough passion for it."

"Yep, it's brought me right where I need to be, here--half-way drunk and unemployed."

"Maybe, however it's an important part of you," placing a hand gently on Casey's forearm, she continued "maybe the best part of you; I think you should consider an alternative." Squeezing the offered hand in thanks, Casey seemed to contemplate the sentiment.

Sensing an opening, Alex decided to press her advantage, "I have a friend, she really helped me figure things out when I was…away," she began, "I think she could really help you gain perspective." It had been a few years since her release from Witness Protection, however Alex still wasn't sure how to talk about her time there. Perhaps it was something she would learn in time, because she certainly did not wish to learn through practice.

Looking up from where she had her head buried in her arms, Casey asked "Why are you doing this?" The tone wasn't accusing, only confused.

"Because I know what it's like to have everything you've ever been come crashing down," was the attorney's honest reply.

Nodding in understanding, an ironic smile graced Casey's face. The expression quickly contorted into that of skepticism as she asked, "by friend' you don't mean some crackpot therapist, right?"

"God no!" At this both woman cracked up, the earlier fog of depression lightening, if only just a little. Sensing the turn of the tide, Alex stood. Dropping enough money to cover the drinks, she got up to leave. "Swing by my office sometime tomorrow." With that, she walked out the door, without so much as a glance back.

Shaking her head in amusement, Casey wondered briefly whether she would go into Cabot's office tomorrow or not. Knocking back the last of her drink, she already knew debate (even with herself) was pointless; no one refused Alexandra Cabot unless they were up for a fight. Besides, Casey was curious as to what kind of 'help' Alex had in mind for her.

She had already gone through her prideful 'Strong and Independent Woman' phase, with little more to show than a few empty bottles of scotch--and if anyone was going to be of actual help, it would be Cabot.

With a final nod to Barry, she left the Los Lobos feeling better than she had since her removal from the DA's office.

…Meanwhile…

Walking down the icy streets of New York, Alexandra Cabot took a moment to think and recollect herself. After the relatively easy conversation in the barroom, most would expect the rest of Casey's transition to go smoothly; Alex knew better.

Pulling her dark peacoat tighter against the chill, she checked her watch. If it was 7p.m. in New York, what time did that make it in California? Shrugging, she decided against waiting--what was a phone call at an ungodly hour between friends?

Smiling at the familiar ring-back tone she waited patiently for the woman on the other end of the line to pick up. The chorus of the song went through two loops, then switched to voicemail. Unfazed by the lack of response, Alex hit redial--it was uncommon for her friend to pick up on the first ring anyway.

Thirty seconds into "The Joker" a familiar voice answered, "who's dead? Otherwise who needs killing?"

Smiling, Alex replied easily, "Been there, done that--wasn't allowed to send the postcard." Her flippant reply caused the woman on the other end of the line to laugh, evidence of sleep (or lack thereof) receding from the tone, replaced by the more relaxed cadence Alex had come to associate with her friend.

"Ah, Ms. Cabot--well, if I had known it was you…"

"You would have been more profane?"

"Exactly!"

The two laughed for a moment, however Rachel Wolfe was nothing if not perceptive-- "so, Black Canary, who's in need of saving this week?"

Rolling her eyes, Alex leaned against the side of the building next to her--no sense in blocking traffic, especially not in New York. "That's such a ridiculous nick name."

"Only if you're missing the context my dear; so tell me, what's really got you calling the big bad Wolfe?"

Smiling, Alex briefly wondered how a woman on the other side of the country could notice more about her than even her closest friends in the office. "I have a friend I believe you should meet."

"Oh god, you're not trying to set me up with another one of those sleaze-bag attorneys," Alex had to suppress a chuckle at the sheer amount of disdain in her friend's voice. In hindsight Langan was probably a 'sleaze-bag', however he seemed like a good idea at the time.

"I didn't try to set you up with one the first time; you "introduced" yourself--I believe I was making copies at the time."

"How was I suppose to know you'd have a creeper in your office? I thought he was your secretary or something--I didn't know he was delivering a motion."

"Most people ask for basic information before they proposition a person"

"Yeah, well, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt--that sounds like a noble quality."

Rolling her eyes, Alex glanced at her watch--she really needed to be back at the office to prepare the motions for tomorrow's case; "Save it for your defense--I need you on the next plane to New York."

"Well good morning to you too; now is this a _need _need? you of all people have gotta know what my schedule looks like," the blunt question posed caused the attorney to roll her eyes.

"Because I make this request so often," was her droll response.

Yawning, Rachel replied "point taken--I'll call Ben tonight and text you when my flight gets in."

"Don't you want to hear the situation first?" Sighing in relief, Alex let her body relax into the cool stone of the building next to her.

"Meh, I'm sure we'll figure it out when I get there--I imagine this is a conversation you want to have face to face, since you want me to drag my happy ass all the way to that ice berg you call home."

"Fair enough. And Ray…" Alex contemplated her next words carefully, "thank you, for doing this."

Hearing the gratitude in her friend's voice, Rachel Wolfe's own reply was soft "Hey, no problem."

***

A hesitant knock on her door alerted Alex Cabot to the presence of another in her office; all too glad to have a reprieve from her mountain of paperwork, the tired attorney capped her pen and called for the visitor to come in.

Timid was not typically the first word which comes to mind when describing Casey Novak--however today, as she entered the Cabot's (allegedly temporary) office, the former ADA lacked her usual swagger. Alex did note, however, that some of the spark which the disbarred attorney was known for had returned. "I come, baring the gift of caffeine."

"Mmm, nectar of the gods," Alex responded with a smile as she took the offered cup.

"Or the over-worked attorney," was Casey's easy reply. Taking the seat across from Alex, the red-head smiled softly.

Deciding that small talk was for the faint of heart (and slow of mind), Alex cut to the heart of the matter, "I'm glad you came."

"I didn't know it was optional," Casey's wry tone belied the humor.

"I find that is the best strategy--no need to let the defense think they have the choice to say no."

Casey was contemplating the possible implications of playing 'defense' to Cabot's 'prosecution' when another figure burst into the spacious office.

"God! Screw fire, Hell is an iceberg!" The only description that seemed to fit the new arrival was disheveled. The battered leather jacket draped over an athletic frame did little to protect the woman from the New York cold while damp jeans clung to a slim figure. Shoulder-length dark locks fell messily into cobalt eyes, eyes which seemed to spark with life despite obvious sleep deprivation.

Alex smirked at her friend's discomfort, "really Ray, this isn't your first trip to the Big Apple." Folding her hands reflexively on her desk, Alex watched in bemusement as Casey sat stiffly in the chair sitting on the other side of the desk while Rachel dragged over another.

"Yeah well I'd forgotten that you have to walk everywhere--never thought I'd see a roadway built worse than the 91," Rachel Wolfe grumbled as she slouched into the leather armchair.

"Casey Novak, this is Rachel Wolfe; Dr. Rachel Wolfe, this is former ADA Casey Novak," Alex introduced, motioning to each woman in turn. Casey's brow quirked in confusion while Rachel simply nodded to Casey and crossed her arms, content in letting Cabot's gambit play out. The attorney had picked her up at the airport that morning, discussing her proposition over bagels.

"Rachel is currently the head of a sexual assault crises center in California-"

"Where snow is nothing is nothing more than a bad dream…well, at least in the Southland."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"It's Novak right? Alright look, I work with victims: rape, incest, sex trafficking, you name it. The short of it is that I'm looking to add an attorney to my staff."

"So you flew out here to offer me a job?"

"Pretty much."

Casey Novak made a career of wordplay, however at that moment her tongue seemed to fail her. "I hate for you to make such a long trip for nothing, but I've been disbarred."

"Brady Violation. Yeah, I read that in your file; I'm not worried--I did a little foot work today, spoke with the detectives of the One Six. Of course Donnelly was royally pissed, but then she's always been a little too tight for her own good," it wasn't often that Rachel Wolfe saw the inside of a courtroom anymore, however her oration skills were next to none. It seemed she was warmed up.

Leaning in, the good doctor continued, "a disbarment in New York doesn't mean you can't continue working--just come out to Cali, pass the bar, start again. The system, it does what it can, but it's flawed as hell. The _only _way that the victims can see justice is if we fight for it. The police are the frontline, but we are the ones who speak for the people--we _are _the People. As an officer of the court, that must be at the forefront of all your decisions."

Casey was shocked. Yesterday she was sitting in the bar contemplating the train wreck that was her life and today she was being offered a job. Her head was spinning.


End file.
